


When the Lights are Down

by ZiziTopsider



Series: Death's Blossom [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gore, Oral Sex, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, Reader-Insert, Stockholm Syndrome, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiziTopsider/pseuds/ZiziTopsider
Summary: Nightmares and terrors are supposed to stay in your dreams, but what happens when they appear in front of you?
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Series: Death's Blossom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113182
Comments: 14
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Just wanted to give a brief warning before anyone read this that this may be a bit more graphic than my other stories, so please heed to the warnings before you continue on. If you choose to continue reading, please enjoy and take a break if it becomes too much. Thank you in advance!

Another night spent writhing between scratchy sheets, sweat beading off of his scar riddled body. One voice, one face plaguing his dreams, him constantly chasing after someone who was just out of reach, just out of shouting distance. His throat was hoarse from silent screams, but they never turned around. As they disappeared into the mist, everything around him went black. The endless void he stared into haunted him, then came the drop into an endless sea of nothingness.

Jolting upright in his bed, Reaper pants while clutching the thin sheet to his chest, the calm of his bedroom soothing his tormented mind. It’s been like this for months now. The illusive woman who haunted his mind. She should have been regarded more than nothing in his mind, another person to put down with a quick blast from his shotgun, but he hesitated. The bringer of death, the sole person who brings shivers down spines and is regarded with haunting tales of a bloodthirsty monster with a rap sheet long enough to stretch the Earth’s equator and back hesitated for one person.

It was a simple mission, go in and steal a laptop with enough data to blackmail high ranking officials in Turkey so that Talon could begin patrolling in the country without so much of a fuss from Overwatch, but it was of course botched. Hell, Talon’s plots against the organization have been less than fruitful. It was more than 8 years since the original headquarters was brought down by a well placed bomb. Members went into hiding, allowing them to move freely without little repercussion, but like a hydra, once you cut off one head, three more sprout forward.

Reaper’s comms were blazing to life with the sound of gunfire and screaming. People called out for help for the heavy, but he wanted the mission to be completed with or without them. To him, they were pawns, a dime a dozen. As he turned the corner of the long hallway, three Overwatch agents fought against fast approaching Talon soldiers, trying their best to hold down the front line. They proved themselves well and were relieved when the last one fell, but their celebration was cut short when the mist they disregarded as a grenade formed in front of them. Two of the agents turned and ran, leaving behind one stupidly brave agent. The gun trembled in your hand, but it was aimed right for his chest. He regarded the gun and then the agent, chuckling darkly.

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

Trembling, you curled into yourself to secure the hold, an index finger fidgeting on the trigger. As you pulled at the hammer, the weapon was knocked from your arms to the ground below followed by a steel toed boot to the chest. When you hit the floor, your helmet kicked off of your head and down the hallway clattering loudly against the tile floor. With his gun in his hand, he pointed it towards his prey’s head, tilting his head to the side when your face came into view. 

Your breathing was hard, but steady. Trying to not show fear in the face of death, you turned to face him, eyes wet with tears that you refused to let fall. Not out of pride, but out of the selfish need to not give the Reaper satisfaction over your misery. You thought of your family back home, how sad they will be to find out the newest recruit to Overwatch was gunned down weeks after she joined. You thought of how uneventful your funeral would be, how your face would be plastered on the local newspapers and maybe a bench at the town square in your memory, but nothing more. You knew you had more to do with your life, but this demon was going to take it all away. As your breathing calmed down, you laid your head back, staring up at the ceiling.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Baffled, Reaper removed his foot from your chest, placing it by your legs. He placed his shotgun in it’s holster as he side stepped your body while you moved to sit on your knees. Taking this as your chance to retaliate, you reached for the knife you tucked into your boot, but he grunted, stopping you in your tracks.

“Do that and I’ll kick your head in.”

So you stopped, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly rose to your feet, too scared to look away from the endless stare of his mask.

“Why didn’t you shoot me?”

“Because if I did, then it would be a waste. Tell me your name, agent.”

Quirking a brow to the demand that sounded like an order, you cleared your throat while tucking your arms under your chest. 

“Clover.”

It should have been simple. The trembling woman before him stopped his train of thought. Instead of ending it there, he let her go back to her team on the promise to tell them that the mission was a loss and they left immediately. Before you left, you looked him over briefly noting the cut on his arm and a few dents on his armor. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you reached into the pouch on your hip and tossed him a bio emitter, turning on your heel to run for the door that the others darted out of. Saying nothing, he tucked it in his pocket and laughed to himself, kicking down the door in front of him. Reaper got the laptop and a couple of folders full of incriminating evidence and was out almost as fast as he came in, but he left with more questions than answers.

Most of them were about you.

-

After that day you pleaded to be taken off of missions. The fear of running back into him haunted you, turned your stomach and stole sleep from you. Every night you woke in a cold sweat, tears falling freely down your puffy cheeks. On a daily basis you had the same nightmare, the barn owl mask chasing after you as you ran down an endless dark hallway, his figure closing in on you before it disappeared. Before you knew it, you would slam into a pair of arms and jolt yourself awake every time without fail. Something about it didn’t sit right with you, but going to medical about it turned out to be more useless than your searches online.

You were a wreck, but after going once more to the sick bay, they finally gave you sleep aid medication to help you get through the night, but that was the extent of their help. You heard the rumors of the wraith, how other agents before you were tossed out of buildings in one of his rages, the blood trail that followed him as he walked. You heard about how he sabotaged many missions, saw the way agents who have escaped from fights with him alive would pale at the memories and change the subject fast. When you asked them how they got over it, they shook their heads.

“We didn’t. We just learned how to bury the fear and keep going.”

But that wouldn’t work for you. They buried it in work, in drinking and hobbies. You barely knew how to do much else but your job at this point and you weren’t too keen on learning a new skill that would ultimately be tied to trauma. So instead, you faced your fears head on and looked up as much information as you could on the subject of your discomfort.

The more you read, the less settled you felt.

After weeks of reading news articles and watching videos of reports and sightings of him, a file was dropped on your desk by a fellow agent who was around the corner and gone before you could chase after them. Instead of giving it more attention when you should be working, you tucked it into your bag for reading later in the evening. As you tucked into reading over mission reports, anticipation tickled your stomach.

When your shift was over, you nearly leaped out of your chair and out of your work area towards the elevators, feet lighter than air as you sped walked. The doors couldn’t shut fast enough, so you hammered on the door close button more times than necessary. Soon the elevator shot up and towards your floor, your hands clutching the strap of your bag while you tapped your foot on the metal floor. As it slowed to a stop, you took a deep breath and stood in front of the door, darting off towards your room as soon as enough space was granted, slamming your key card to the pad and swinging the door open with a bit too much force. As it banged on the side wall, you shouted apologies to your neighbor and shut the door a bit softer, locking it and setting your room privacy to ‘do not disturb’

Placing your bag on the table, you slid out the folder that was thrown on your desk and sat in front of it, hands framing the rather thick file. The name that was originally on it was blacked out, the word void in bright red letters on the front of the seal. With a deep breath, you slid the rubber band holding the folder together off of it, tossing it to the side and flipped it open, mouth hung open when you began reading the information in front of you. Letters of recommendation from the Army, awards and medals, pinning ceremonies and the like were scattered in the corner of the folder, one face in particular blocked out except for one picture. Placing that one to the side, you read through written manuscripts of interrogations days before the collapse of the old headquarters, the subject being questioned was redacted, but a familiar last name popped up as the interviewer, along with a name you’ve only heard of in passing.

Finally, what seemed to be pictures of a ripped apart laboratory, chairs with fingernail marks dug into the arm band, tubes filled with purple and blue liquids scattered on the surface. A computer was flipped upside down, screen smashed through with a massive fist mark in the middle, cracks cratering around the impact zone. Written notes were scribbled out furiously, names and topics covered up with a black marker to protect other information, but you were able to piece together the story from the remaining information. After studying the lab pictures enough, you flipped to the last page with three write ups. One was for a wrong call for a mission in northern Russia that resulted in three agents dying, next was the murder of the crime boss Antonio in Rialto, then finally was a fight in the middle of a meeting hall with the Strike Commander that resulted in damages that would take you many years to gather 1/8th of to pay off.

Holding the picture in your hand that you cast aside, your finger drifted over the face of the bearded man with a smirk on his face, arm on his shoulder and eyes staring off to the side to who knows what. A blonde man next to him and another face you weren’t able to put a name to stood side by side with drinks in hand and specks of confetti on their clothes. Putting everything back together, you slid the folder to your side and ran your hands through your hair. If the rumors were true and the mutterings you overheard when you walked by the officer’s tables were true, then the person you saved that day was none other than former Commander Gabriel Reyes.

That seemed to make you feel better, but not by much.

Everyone’s heard about the old Commander who fought hard and was equally as hard on newer agents, but kind to the ones who he held dear to him. The friendship he had with the Strike Commander seemed to be inseparable. Two kids from different walks of life coming together and leading the world towards peace seemed like a storybook tale if anyone’s ever heard of it. But fractures and judgement calls seemed to separate the once dynamic duo, resulting in the fight you read about and the ultimate demise of their friendship and the old organization. Of course, if Jack Morrison could somehow survive and bark orders at you from time to time, you knew the man dressed in all black with a gravelly voice that still gives you goosebumps was equally alive and _pissed_ of the existence of the new group.

Placing the rubber band back on the folder, you tucked it back into your bag, trying to formulate a way to put it back wherever it came from without being caught as you brushed your teeth and changed for bed. Pulling back the sheets on your bed, you placed your phone on the charger and climbed in, grabbing the bottle of pills and taking one with a healthy swig of water before settling into bed and studied the patterns on the ceiling before falling asleep.

-

Sitting at the shaky table with two other agents, the captain in front of you went over the mission that you reluctantly accepted after threats of cleaning duty for the next three months. The room was fairly crowded, so at least you weren’t noticeable as you picked at the nail polish on your fingers, trying to remain focused as you were briefed. A patrol mission shouldn’t warrant the fears you were having, but once the mention of Talon came up, your stomach did an uneasy flip. Taking a deep breath, you folded your hands into your lap and tried to steady your jumpy leg, ignoring the stares from your seat mates as teams were rattled off.

A hand on your shoulder caused you to jump and turn to the person behind you, groaning when they laughed at your reaction.

“What’s wrong, Clover? I’ve never seen you this jumpy before a mission. Think you’re up to it?”

Sighing, you tried to reply before your seatmate placed her hand over yours, rubbing it gently. “She’s probably afraid of running into the Reaper again. Poor thing had a run in with him and managed to walk off with everything intact.”

The agent who stood behind you frowned, rubbing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be on my team, so if we see any sign of him I’ll keep you safe from that monster.”

You laughed, patting his hand on your shoulder before moving to stand. “Thank you, Cooper. I hope your words hold up if and when the time comes for that.”

Everyone made their way down to their stations to prepare to leave. As you unlocked your locker, your hands hovered over your helmet, studying the small dent on the sides and the scuff marks from your impact of falling that day. Pushing past your hesitation, you pulled out your things and got dressed, holding the helmet in one arm while you made your way over to your weapons locker. Once you were prepared for the mission, you grabbed your bag and walked with a few others over to the drop ship, passing the time with light conversation and the occasional joke. When the time came, everyone stepped onto the ship and placed their items in storage bins before taking their seats, some people choosing to look at their phones while some others slept. Instead of doing either of those, you stared at the marks on your helmet as the ship took off into the air.

You must have fallen asleep, because a firm hand on your shoulder brought you out of the endless black dream you had and to the present. Noticing that the ship was no longer moving, you moved to unbuckle your seatbelt and stood, stretching for a few moments before walking with the others off of the ship and to the meeting area. Each agent was passed an ear piece and their phones were updated with information just in case they needed it. Thankfully, no one else was wearing a helmet so you opted to leave yours with the others that sat near the ramp and double checked your gear before heading off with Cooper to your patrol area. Twilight began to set in, the sky that peeked out in between the tall cedar canopy gave off enough light so that the two of you wouldn’t trip on roots. Gun in hand, you walked a few steps behind your partner to keep an eye on the area, ears tuned into any sound that happened nearby.

After two hours, the two of you checked in with the captain and took a break. Cooper kept watch while you took a swig from your water bottle and sat on a fallen tree, rubbing your sore calves and rotating your ankles. He watched as you rubbed your wrists, his eyes drifting over your form illuminated by the moonlight that peeked through. Clearing his throat, you looked up at him and smiled.

“It’s such a lovely night, isn’t it Clover?”

Raising your brows, you nodded and chuckled to yourself while you stood up, grabbing your gun and strapping your water bottle back to your hip. “Sure, if you count barely being able to see what’s in front of you and keeping an eye out for enemies a lovely night.”

He laughed and moved to the side while you took his place as he drank from his own water bottle, his eyes never leaving yours. “Come on, the air is calm, the moon is out and it’s quiet. The next agents have to be half a mile away. This has to give you some sort of romantic vibes.”

Okay, now he lost you.

“Uh, I’m not sure I follow where you’re going with this.”

Capping his bottle, he tossed it next to his gun on the floor and closed the distance between the two of you. “Don’t play coy, Clo. This would be the perfect time for us to… you know.”

As you side stepped, he caged you against the tree, moving with you each time you tried to step away. “Cooper, I don’t think this is a good idea. Besides, we’re supposed to be patrolling.”

His hand gripped your arm, causing your gun to clatter to the ground below as he pulled you into his arms. When you tried to push away, his hold grew stronger, causing you to wince. “This is the perfect time. Besides, I know you want me just as much as I want you. I’ve seen the way you look at me when I’m around, the way you laugh. Besides, I changed with your original partner so we can finally have some alone time.”

“You’re mistaken. I’ve never seen you in that wa-” Soon you were on the ground after his fist connected with your cheek. Blinking away the blurred vision, you struggled to scramble to your feet as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back towards him. When you were close enough, you kicked him in the stomach, causing him to stammer back against the tree as he caught his breath, giving you enough time to grab his gun and take off into the woods. He called after you, but you ignored it, dodging between trees and rocks that were in your way. As you ran, you tried to shoot off a message to anyone nearby, but noticed that your phone was cracked in half. Your earpiece was also missing, leaving you in the middle of the woods with a gun and a prayer.

The sounds of his feet hitting the forest floor behind you grew closer, causing you to pick up speed, dodging to the left when you saw him appear behind you shortly after. Just when you thought you were free, his hand was on the back of your collar, causing you to toss your gun into the clearing and slam to the ground on your back, winding you. As you coughed, his hands were ripping at your uniform top, snatching the vest from your chest and the zipper of your bodysuit. You tried punching him in the face, but he caught your hand in his own and slid it under his knee, the other soon joining after. 

The mixture of running and fighting tired you out way too fast, but you tried all that you could to fight him off to no avail, tears falling from your eyes as he sliced your bra open with a knife, his gloved hands soon groping the mounds of flesh hidden behind the material. When your cries grew louder, he shoved one of his gloves into your mouth, his smile wicked as he zipped the bodysuit down lower. When he grabbed for your belt, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine that you were anywhere other than the woods with someone you thought was your friend when the deafening sounds of a shotgun rang out. 

Liquid splattered across your face and exposed body, the full weight of your partner soon leaving you and slumping to the ground with a thud shortly after. Not wanting to face certain death, you took the glove from your mouth and used it to wipe off the chunks of god knows what off of your face and sat up, finally cracking your eyes when the sound of boots hitting dirt came closer to you. Cooper’s body twitched next to you, but you refused to look any higher than his chest before you would grow sick. Instead, you looked up at the figure who stood in front of you, color draining from your face when the gun he used pointed directly at your forehead, smoke billowing off of his hulking form.

The mask from your dreams appeared before you as he crouched, his gun dropping to the side as his clawed hand turned your head from side to side. His voice was more muffled than before, the ringing from the blast being so close by dulling your senses slightly as he ran his gloved hand over your neck, stopping at your collarbone. When he seemed satisfied, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out the bio emitter you gave him before, clicking a few buttons before standing once more.

Reaper turned his back as you continued to clean the blood and brain tissue off of your chest and stomach, allowing you the time to redress and grab your now ruined vest before turning back around. Shouts from other agents echoed nearby which made him take a step away from you. Before he could leave, you raised your hand out towards him.

“w-Wait. I wanted t-to than-”

“Save it. He was a pig and didn’t deserve to live any longer than he already was.”

In a burst of smoke, his form slipped to the ground and away from you. Your eyes struggled to follow along with it in the dim lighting, but lights from other agents' flashlights drew you away from that and to their horrified faces. They looked at the now dead agent and then your bloody face, questions forming before the captain appeared from behind them. She stopped short when Cooper’s lifeless body that still twitched horrifically to your trembling form and ripped clothing and tried to piece everything together as his body cam was taken from his uniform. Yours was found at your last check in area while you were escorted back to the drop ship in cuffs, his body in a bag at the back of the ship.

-

Sitting in the sterile interrogation room, you fiddled with the now empty cup in front of you, clanking the cuffs against the metal table as you waited for the questioning to start. Any time you looked at the glass window to your left, you winced at the now dried blood that marred your face, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to push the vivid images from your mind. The ringing in your ear stopped thankfully after about an hour, but things were still a bit dull. That didn’t matter. You were more worried about being pinned with the death of your attempted rapist when you weren’t even the one to put an end to him.

The door soon opened, the stern face of Jack with the captain that arrested you soon appeared. The two of them sat in front of you and slammed two folders in front of you, causing you to jump away from them, the paper cup in your hands crumpling. Folding his hands before him, Jack took a deep breath and stared at you.

“We reviewed the tapes from both of your body cams. John Cooper’s death is no longer being pinned on you, but we still have questions about the person who did it. Also, we had someone go through your room to check and see if you had any intentions of setting him up and found this folder next to your bag. Care to explain why this class 1 sensitive material ended up in your possession?”

Holding your breath, you looked between the two folders, hovering a bit longer over the one you studied days before as you exhaled, running your hands through your messy hair still being held in the ratty bun at the nape of your neck.

“It was passed to me at work, sir. I don’t know who gave it to me, unfortunately. As far as the person who shot him… it was Reaper, sir.”

Jack grimaced, his brows furrowed as the name rolled off your tongue. The captain next to you sat back in her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“So, you mean to tell me that Reaper was the one who shot John Cooper? You saw him and didn’t tell _any_ of us that he was close by?!” Jack placed a hand on his seatmate’s shoulder to stop her from standing.

“Zhu is right. Why would he out of all people shoot him, but not you? This is your second run in with that monster and you weren’t harmed by him. Are you working with him?”

Shaking your head, you held your hands in front of you and waved off the question. “No! I would never work with the enemy, sir!”

Pointing to the classified folder, he slid it towards you, lips pursed tightly. “Then why do you have this folder? If you aren’t working with Talon then why does this interest you?”

Stammering, you studied your hands to break his eye contact as you shook in your seat. “i-I wanted to know more about him. When I looked at the folder and compared it to the research I did, the similarities were there. I was going to return it as soon as I found out where it came from but never got the chance to. As far as him not hurting me, I can’t answer that one for you, sir. It still confuses me even now.”

The room grew silent outside of the buzzing from the lights overhead. Captain Zhu sat back in her chair once more, arms crossed over her chest as Jack ran his hands through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips before he moved to stand. You froze in your seat when he approached, watching as he took a lanyard from his pocket and held it to your cuffs. They fell open, allowing you to rub your sore wrists as he returned to his seat and sat down, his hands drumming on the surface of the table.

“You’re on cleaning duty for the next two months and no more missions until I deem you fit to return to service for being in possession of classified documents. I’ll schedule you to speak with Angela for grief counseling and anything else you may need after experiencing what you did tonight. It’s been documented that you’ve tried to seek it out before, but got nothing in return. Maybe now you’ll be able to get some assistance with that. But if I find out that you’ve lied to us in any capacity, you’ll be thrown out and given up to local authorities for assisting a terrorist organization. Understood, agent?”

“Yes sir.”

“Next time you see a killer and know he’s nearby, tell us!”

“Yes ma’am.”

When you were released, two other agents escorted you back to your room, passing two bags of medication and food before you slipped into your room. After a long shower, you tried to eat but realized soon after that food wouldn’t help. Looking over the medication you were given, you placed it on the counter and ignored it, rubbing your sore shoulders as you walked to your bed, sliding in between the sheets and laid on your side, watching the clouds pass by as the first rays of morning began to creep to the surface.

Sleep only lasted a few hours until a strong fist on your door brought you jolting out of the endless void of the repeated nightmare. Wiping off the sweat from your forehead and tossing the sheets to the side, you shuffled to the door, hoping to stop whoever decided to wake you from repeating their assault on the rather weak barrier. Swinging it open, knit brows and slanted eyes widened. Taking a step back, you held your hands in front of you, saying a silent plea as the masked intruder made their way into your quarters. Freezing where you stood, they approached slowly, hands up in front of them in a clawed manner before they stopped and broke out into laughter, snatching the mask from their face.

“Oh darlin’, I’m so sorry for frightenin’ ya. Morrison wanted me ta wake you up for yer cleanin’ duties.”

Shivers quaked over your body, words dying just as soon as they thought of flying out of your trembling lips. Too afraid to look at him, he tried to comfort you but you snatched away from him, opting instead to walk around your table to the other end, hands clutching the back of a chair.

“Next time you decide to do something like that, Jesse, please be sure to do it during the day.”

-

Two months passed by slower than you hoped. Agents flew in and out of the cafeteria, chatting about their missions and how smooth they went. Some of them even mentioned how they saw the back of Reaper, but he disappeared before anyone got close enough. As you cleaned the weight rooms, you heard chatter about how other agents tangoed with the infamous killer and left with one arm or worse. Cleaning the hallways left talks about a big mission being worked on, but any time you got close enough to listen in, they stepped away.

Sweeping the officer’s suite hallway, you listened to a podcast about cooking when a firm tap to your shoulder brought you out of your reverie. Whipping your head around you saw the slightly exhausted face of Commander Morrison. He took a step back when you flinched, allowing you time to pop off your headphones and place the broom against the wall.

“Agent Y/N, I think it’s time for your next mission. Finish up your cleaning here and meet me in the conference room when you are done. Don’t make me wait, understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

Regarding you with a quick once over, he nodded and turned on his heel towards the elevators. When his figure disappeared behind the doors, you doubled your efforts on sweeping, scooping what little dirt you saw on the floor into the dustpan and then put the broom away in the closet. After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up and calm your nerves, you headed down to the conference room, hands tucked in your pockets to stop them from wringing together.

The doors to the conference room slid open revealing a small group of six, Commander Morrison included. Jack nodded at you, his right hand directing you to sit in the free chair closest to him. When you took your seat, a screen appeared in front of you to catch you up on the mission you’d be leaving for tonight. Following along with him as he spoke, you saw the path that your group would be taking. Another escort mission, but this time you and another agent would be riding in a decoy car while the true vehicle carrying the Austrian diplomat’s son would ride in front of yours. Agents disguised as security would ride along the road with everyone to ward off any attacks that may happen.

Taking a deep sigh, you made a mental note of the things you would need to pack, taking some liberties off of the suggested list at the bottom of the report. When everyone was dismissed, you went back to your room to have a shower, opting instead of packing heavy for a mission that seemed to be an overnight thing to just bring what you could in your utility belt and cargo pants pockets instead. Light toiletries, changes of underwear and a shirt, charger, chapstick and your new phone. There was a buzzing feeling of uneasiness in you, but you just chucked it up to being nervous for going back to the field after being off for so long. Angela advised that if things seemed too tense for you to take a step back if possible and breathe through the nerves.

Easier said than done.

As you boarded the drop ship, you turned around momentarily to look at the hangar and studied everyone who busied themselves with restocking low supplies and pushing carts of frozen food towards the pantry. Machines beeped and buzzed in the massive room, but after being around it for so long, you never paid any attention to it. Taking your seat, you triple checked the seatbelt and leaned your head back to study the ceiling. You hoped that all of this would be for nothing, all of your worries and sense of foreboding danger ahead of something that seemed mundane kept firing off, so you breathed through it.

When you piled into the car with your partner, you triple checked your ammo, made sure your gun was on safety when you secured it to the holster on your thigh, checked for any hidden bombs or microphones. She of course laughed at your worrying and sat back, watching the world pass by by the two of you as your car zipped behind the lead car. As the car rounded a corner, there was a flash of light from the woods. Time seemed to slow down as the rocket cascaded over the surface of the water, waves rushing after it before it collided with the car in front, sending the car into a tailspin and slam into the guard rail.

Your partner slammed into the glass, the impact splintering the glass and cracked her head open. The omnic driver turned to the two of you and tried to climb back to assist, but two bullets whizzed through the passenger window, connecting with it’s head and throat. Oil splattered your face, but pushing through the fear and harsh buzzing you tried to assist your incapacitated partner as best as you could, snatching a roll of bandages and gauze from one of your many pockets. Ignoring the shouting and gunfire which ricocheted bullets off of the hood of the car, you moved her to a sitting position, applying pressure to her open wound as you unwrapped the bandage and began wrapping it around a fresh piece of gauze, whispering positive words to her as she fazed in and out of consciousness.

Seeming satisfied with the job, you were quick to reach for your gun and place your body in front of hers when the handle to your door shuffled, a shadowed figure appearing in front of the tinted glass. You didn’t have to wait long to find out who it was, because two bullets to the lock loosened it enough for them to open it. That hated black and red mask appeared before gloved hands reached out for you. Firing at their shoulder and knee, they buckled to the ground, shouting in pain as you moved towards the opened door with your partner on your back, hooking her arm around your shoulder as the two of you stumbled out of the car. Smoke from the explosion and destroyed bikes blinded your vision, stealing precious fresh air from you, but you kept going, tripping over the shoe of one of your teammates.

Boots on concrete running towards you made you hold your breath, your eyes moving from your unconscious partner to the three Talon agents who appeared out of the smoke, their guns trained to the two of you. Before you could turn away from them, two bullets connected to your partner’s head and chest, piercing you through the arm as the two of you buckled to the ground. Teeth grit you moved away from your partner, hand clutching the bullet wound as you scooted back, but they were faster. The last thing you saw was the butt of a gun before it connected with your head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, new warnings: Dubious Non-Con, aggression and physical abuse. Please tread lightly when you read this.

You were running once more in the endless black void of your nightmares, the owl mask behind you encroaching faster than before. Doubling your efforts, you tried to speed away from it, but your legs began to fail, slowing down to a mere shuffle. Your feet seemed to be glued to the ground, wisps of black bleeding up your legs and holding your wrists, holding you bound as you silently screamed, the mask appearing soon after. Shaking, you felt a clawed glove on your face and you flinched, trying to pull away from it but the inky black tendrils held you still. Red eyes appeared in the eye sockets of the mask as it moved closer to your face. You wanted to look away, trying not to be consumed as the icy fire from your chains that burned your skin, but the smell of musk and blood overwhelmed you. The hand clamped around your throat and squeezed.

So you woke up, blindfolded and bound in cuffs on your hands and feet, the sound of a car engine humming along a rocky road and low conversation pulled you from the tangle of sleep. Moving to sit up in the seat you slumped your head forward and bobbed with each bump, groaning from the throb of the headache that rattled your brain and the shitty patch job on your broken nose. Running through a checklist, you shifted your left arm and ignored the right, hissing as a particularly sharp turn slammed you into the door right into the bullet wound. Nothing grazed against bone, so you figured it was a clean shot. Pain radiated through your hips and knees, but that was about it.

The car slowed to a stop. More low talking and beeping, then the sounds of a gate? Or was it a fence? Who knows. Slumping to your side you tried to ward off the nausea that threatened to spill bile on the carpets as the car cruised towards an unknown destination. You figured your phone and earpiece were missing, so there wasn’t any point in searching for that, but the pockets on your raised leg felt full still so you hoped that was all that was missing. As you pondered on where you were, the car slowed to a stop. Doors opened and shut, shaking the car before the door closest to your head opened. Strong arms snatched you by your hair to the ground, the grip never lessening as you scrambled to stand, wincing when you were shoved by your wounded arm forward.

Stumbling up stairs, you heard the sound of keys jingling before a door slid open. Being shoved once more, you tumbled to the ground and winced and rolled to your back, panting before you were snatched back up by the cuffs to stand as your captors laughed at your cries. The sounds of chains approached before you were yanked forward and commanded to hold your wrists out. Doing as you were told with a grimace, the heavy chain was attached to the cuffs and you were pushed unceremoniously towards what you assumed was a bed face down. Fear flipped you to your back and into a sitting position before you were knocked unconscious once more.

-

Lights and the smell of cinnamon stirred you from your sleep. Shifting to your side, you were surprised that your legs were free, but of course your wrists were bound still. Surprisingly, nothing hurt anymore, but the bandage on your nose still reminded you of your injuries. Blinking away the sleep from your eyes, you surveyed the room you were in as it became clear in the dimmed lighting. Water stained walls with pieces of plaster missing, a black jacket hung off of the edge of the bed, surprisingly soft sheets and a down comforter was draped over your body. A black curtain hung over the window behind the bed casting the room in darkness. Placing your hands on the bed you pushed yourself up to a seated position and yawned, looking down to the oversized black shirt that spilled around you and froze. Your bra was missing but panties remained. Kicking the rest of the sheets off of you, you studied the bed for any signs of blood or other fluids and found nothing. With a sigh, you leaned back against the headboard and closed your eyes once more.

Pans clanking against the surface of a stove made you peek over to the corner where you assumed a kitchen was. Bandages and a sewing kit were scattered on the table nearby, a chair was flipped on its side and blood splattered the walls down to the wooden floors, a mop bucket perched nearby let you know it probably was much worse when you were out. Your clothes were in a folded pile near the door, the items inside folded on top of them. Your boots laid haphazardly next to another pair of heeled boots three sizes bigger than your own.

The sounds of cursing in another language flew out of the mystery person in the kitchen as what you assumed was oil popped on the surface of another pan. Shuffling towards the edge of the bed, you pulled on the chain and clanked it against the radiator it was attached to, stilling when you dropped the rest of it in a clang to the floor. There was a brief moment of shuffling before your captor appeared from around the corner. Taking a deep breath you studied the way Reaper straightened his back, the black shirt hugging muscles that revealed scar riddled arms. Strong legs were covered in black sweatpants that cuffed just above the ankle, revealing gashes on both that dipped below grey ankle socks. His face was still hidden behind the mask, but the hood that attached to it seemed to be placed on hastily.

Cowering back towards the bed he approached you slowly, his eyes drifting from the chain to your wrists. He stopped a foot before you and crouched, extending his hand towards you. “Let me see your cuffs.”

Wordlessly you held them out for him and expected him to be rough, but instead he studied the tightness of it, massaging where bruises began to form from them banging against bone. His hands were scarred, but surprisingly soft, save for a few calloused fingertips. He flipped your hands over, checking your palms before he let them go to reach for your chin. Turning your head to and fro, he checked for bruises and clicked his tongue when he noticed the black and blue bruise from your gunshot wound spread a bit higher than last night. He tugged the sleeve of the shirt you assumed was his up and looked at the bandage, two fingers rubbing gently over the gauzed wound on both sides.

“Those fucking bastards that brought you here were rougher than I requested, but they’re gone now.”

Swallowing hard, you looked down at his hand that landed on your knee and squeezed gently before it left as he stood to his feet. Holding his arms out towards you, you moved to stand without assistance but were soon stumbling towards him like a newborn deer into his firm chest. The scent of his cologne and deodorant overwhelmed your senses as he moved you to stand, his strong arms turning you around towards a door. He stopped short, turning to unlock the chain before opening the door to a bathroom and stepped to the side.

“I’m assuming I can trust you enough to do this alone?”

Nodding, you shuffled yourself into the room and turned as he shut the door. For the first time in what you assumed was a few days you saw yourself in the mirror and grimaced. Black and blue spiderwebbed veins radiated around your eyes and forehead down to frame your mouth around the bruised parts of your nose. Your hair was a tangled mess that seemed to have an attempt at becoming kempt. The knots of hair on the top of the trash let you know that it was a failure. Turning towards your right you studied the blooming bruise around your neck and shoulders down to your elbow, the skin still sensitive even though it felt worlds better than before. A packaged toothbrush and a hairbrush laid on top of the toilet. A damp towel was haphazardly tossed into a basket along with your old underwear and bra. The room smelled faintly of bleach, noting the red washcloth that sat outside of the basket in a clump.

After you used the bathroom and brushed your teeth, you took your hair down from the shoestring ponytail holder and fought against tangles and the smell of masculine shampoo until it was at least semi acceptable, sweeping the wispy strands behind your ears before walking out of the bathroom. Two plates of food and cups of orange juice sat on the newly cleaned table. You weren’t sure if you were truly hungry until the sounds of your stomach growling told you otherwise. Tugging at the bottom of the shirt, you cleared your throat still hoarse from the smoke to catch his attention.

“Turn and face the door. Do not move.”

“..Okay.”

Doing as you were told you turned and faced the door, shuffling your weight on both feet as he approached. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to let you know he was close by before a black sash appeared in your view. “This is just as a precaution. I trust that you won’t pull it down?”

“I won’t, sir.”

Chuckling, he slid the thick material over your eyes, being careful of your bruising while he tied it behind your head. Waving his hands in front of your face, he hummed in approval when you didn’t react and guided you towards the table.

“Those who work for me call me sir. You can call me Reaper.”

Nodding, you hesitated as he pushed on your shoulders before you fell back into a chair, lifting your feet up when he slid it closer to the table. The sound of the chain creeped closer once more and you held out your wrists for him to secure it back to your cuffs. Your ears perked up to the sounds of clicking, then the clink of something hard against the table. Carefully, you reached around the table for a fork, finding it soon after. As much as you wanted to dig into what smelled delicious, that pang of fear warned you against being so hasty. Sensing this, Reaper swallowed his food and placed his fork down on the plate.

“It’s not poisoned. If it was, I wouldn’t be eating it, now would I?”

Still you didn’t move, your head motioning down towards the plate to where you assumed he was before he grunted and slammed his hands on the table, clanking the plates and causing you to snatch away and cower further into the seat.

“If I was going to fucking poison you, I would have done so while you were sleeping. Now eat the fucking food or I’ll force feed you.”

A whimper slipped out of your quivering lips. Swallowing hard, you took the fork in your hand and hovered until you felt the edge of the plate against the palm of your hand. Carefully, you poked until something soft was punctured by it and brought the mystery item up to your mouth. A couple of chews let you know it was eggs, and _goddamn_ were they good. The savory cheese in between the protein perked up your mood and squashed any fear while you explored the rest of the plate with the fork, soon coming to french toast and pieces of bacon. While the two of you ate, Reaper watched as you dove into the meal, the smile on the corner of your lips made him satisfied despite feeling bad for making you scared moments earlier.

You finished what you could and sat back after taking a few gulps of the orange juice and hummed, rubbing your satisfied stomach as he stood and took the plates to the kitchen. When he returned, you heard the sounds of clicking once more before he walked towards you and removed the blindfold from your eyes. He gave you a few moments to adjust to seeing before he helped you back to your feet and to the bed. When you settled in, he pulled the sheets back up to your lap and patted it gently. You watched as he moved towards a silver case near another door you didn’t see before and came back towards you, sitting on the side of the bed while he opened it and removed a syringe, some mystery liquid and an emitter.

Shivering, you pulled away from him as he scooted closer with the syringe full of the liquid but stopped when his hand yanked on the cuffs and straightened out your arms. “This is going to help with the bruising. The emitter will speed up your recovery. It’ll make you sleep, which is what you need.”

Before you could retort he plunged the needle into your arm and you flinched, hissing when the liquid sank into you. When it was empty, he capped the needle off while you pressed your thumb against the wound. Thoughts raced through your head before slowing down to a crawl, eyes becoming heavy as you leaned further into the pillows. As you blinked and struggled to follow him, his fingers hovered over your pulse before caressing your chin. You thought you heard him smile and mutter the word “princess”, but maybe that was the drugs talking. Soon your eyes closed and you were out. Reaper adjusted you on the bed and tucked you into the sheets, watching the calmness of your face and the way your chest rose and fell.

-

You floated on your back in calm seas, the sun above you basking you in gentle warmth as you floated along. Seagulls above called to their friends as they flapped above you. People laughing on the beach and splashing echoed close by. Moving to sit up, you watched them splash around in the ocean, a beach ball bouncing between two people before it popped. One by one, each person sunk into the ocean slowly, their eyes watching you before they disappeared under the surface of the still calm seas. A once crowded beach was now empty, chairs and umbrellas left behind. You flailed in the water before righting yourself, swimming back to shore, hesitant that at any moment those who sunk below would pull you down.

As you stepped to the shore, you stopped when that familiar black figure and white mask appeared in front of you. Slowly, Reaper stripped his coat off, removing the utility belt from his waist and dropping his shotguns down. Heavy feet pulled you closer to him, the force from behind strong as the two of you closed in on each other. His bare chest riddled in scars and what seemed like smoke lifted off of his body. Removing the mask, the face from the picture you saw appeared where his face was, the vision blurring between a young Gabriel to a scarred and faded Reaper, or what you thought he looked like.

Your hands drifted up his arms to his shoulders as you lifted yourself up to your tiptoes, his strong hands slid down your sides to your hips, pulling you flush to his bare chest. Both faces blurred together before a final face appeared shrouded in mist, fangs dripping with the blood of your partner down to your face before he bit down on your neck.

Gasping you sat up in the bed and panted, looking around the now dark room as you trembled in between the sheets. Sweat dripped down your head to your cheeks which you wiped off with the blankets. The dim light from the emitter gave you enough to see that the room was empty. The clock on the wall read 3:18am and the date which was four days past when you left base. Running your hands over your face you tried to calm down, studying the chains while you thought of how people back on base were reacting to a missing agent. Did they think you were dead? Was your death faked? Maybe they thought you were really an undercover Talon agent after all. Hell, all of your things were missing and you were looking at private information you had no access to, so people could come to conclusions on their own.

Conclusions, something you didn’t want to come to right now.

While you wracked your brain for ways to possibly escape, the sound of keys jingled behind the metal door. The door knob twisted, lights from the street bled into the dark room while Reaper stepped in, closing the door behind him and locking it. Flicking on the light, his mask was facing your barely visible face hidden by the pulled up sheets. He regarded you for a moment before he went to the kitchen and placed the bags in his hands down on the counter, placing the contents away. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you pulled the sheets off of your body and scooted yourself to the edge of the bed, feet jumping to the cool surface of the wood floors before you stood and shuffled over to the table. He appeared from around the corner while you fiddled with one of the bottles of water, trying feebly to twist open the bottle but finding that basic functions still eluded your drugged body.

He closed the distance between you, grabbing the bottle from your hand before opening it. Holding it in one hand and your chin in the other, he tilted your head back and hovered the bottle over your closed mouth. When you opened your mouth he poured the water into it, allowing you to take greedy gulps from the refreshing liquid. When you felt that you were done you pulled away, wiping the few drops that splashed on your chin off on the back of your hand.

“Thank you, Reaper.”

Grunting in reply, he put the cap back on the bottle and guided you back to the bed, but instead of laying down you looked at the bathroom door. He sighed and removed the chain from your cuffs and led you to the bathroom. As you stepped in, he placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face him, reaching down and unlocking the cuffs from your wrist.

“Figured you’d want a shower soon. There’s different body wash and shampoo inside for you to choose from. Knock on the door when you’re done.”

Nodding, you waited until he shut the door and locked it from the outside before you stripped off the sweat soaked shirt and underwear and tossed it into the empty basket near the shower. Turning it to a comfortable temperature, you brushed your hair out while you waited for it to warm up and used the bathroom before stepping in. There was a loofah with the tag still on it next to a black one that seemed used a few hours ago. You grabbed it and decided on the verbena scented body wash and the honey shampoo and washed up, revelling in the feeling of washing and conditioning your whole body for a bit longer than expected.

As the water ran cold and you began to prune up, you turned off the shower and stepped out, reaching for the folded towel on the shelf and wrapped it around yourself, rubbing the soft material before patting yourself dry. While you brushed your hair and teeth, the smell of spices wafted from under the door, making your stomach grumble in appreciation once more. This whole situation seemed odd, but as long as you weren’t being pushed around any longer you didn’t mind. Of course it could be worse. He could beat you, he could of course take advantage of you and you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him. Being a super soldier despite his age meant that you wouldn’t have a chance unless he was about to take his last breath.

His temper was something to stay away from, so you made a mental note to continue to listen and stay in his good graces so that you didn’t pique his anger any more than necessary. Knocking a few times, you waited as he approached the door. After unlocking it you stepped back while he swung it open and held a hand out for you. Though it wasn’t necessary, you took it and let him guide you back over to the bed. With a firm hand to your shoulders, you sat down on the comforter and stayed malleable while he moved your head and arm around, humming in approval behind his mask as he noted the bruising that was once black and blue now a sickly green and yellow. Not completely bad, but better than before. He tapped your nose lightly and you flinched, but blinked in surprise when it didn’t hurt as bad as it did before.

“You’re doing better, I’ll change your bandages after dinner. Hope you’re not vegetarian because we’re having chicken and rice with garlic sauteed vegetables.”

Shaking your head you worried your bottom lip in between your teeth before tugging the towel tighter around yourself. “I’m not. That sounds really good, thank you again for cooking.”

He grunted in response and walked back to the kitchen, making a point to make as much noise as possible in the kitchen to let you know that he was occupied. Taking the hint, you stood and let the towel fall to your waist before scooping it up and draping it over the bottom of the bed before getting dressed. You noticed the fresh deodorant and a body wash next to clothes you assumed were either borrowed or new, but you put everything on and sprayed the light vanilla and coconut scent over your body, smiling at the soft scent before putting them near the small table next to the bed. Moving to the table, you took the liberty of placing the blindfold on yourself, adjusting it so that it covered your nose.

When Reaper rounded the corner with plates loaded with food, he stopped when he saw you sitting with your hands tucked neatly in your lap, feet tapping lightly on the floor and waiting patiently for his guidance. He smiled behind his mask and approached your side, leaning his body close to yours as he passed the plate close to your nose before placing it down, grabbing hold of your hand to place a fork in it which you took gladly. When he moved to sit down and took off his mask, you hovered over the food and poked your fork into the pile of rice, leaning your head to the side when nothing was punctured. Repeating it a few times, he snorted while your cheeks burned in embarrassment when realization hit you too late. Finally you found the sliced pieces of chicken and pulled a bite up to your mouth, humming in delight when the flavorful meat hit your tongue.

Again the two of you ate in content silence, the occasional sound of forks scraping against the surface of plates before you were full. Placing the fork down, you sat back with your hands on your lap and smiled while he cleaned up after dinner, placing the plates in the sink and returned to your side once more. Instead of reaching for the blindfold, his hands caressed your shoulders, thumbs kneading into the tense flesh which made you sigh and lean into his touch. If this was any other situation with anyone else, you wouldn’t dare to be this off guard, but his hands just felt _so good_ and he worked all of the knots out with ease, calloused pads stroking against your spine. Leaning forward, you rested your arms on the table and folded them and laid your head on your arms while he worked lower, the floorboards creaking as he leaned over you to get spots you didn’t even know could be sore.

When his hands slid under your shirt you tensed, but he didn’t move until he felt you relax once more into his touch. Your mind began to haze as his hands stroked your sides and your lower back up towards your ribs, fingertips dragging slowly over your sides before reaching the blades on the back. The pull of sleep began tugging you while his fingernails grazed your skin from your shoulders down to your sides, teasing dangerously towards the front of you while he blew on your back. The sensations made your skin goosebump, so he moved his hands back over to soothe them down, your hips shifting slightly to his ministrations. Slowly he dragged his hands back down your back and moved them over to your stomach making you flinch slightly.

Instead of continuing, he tugged on the bottom of your shirt and helped you out of it, tossing the soft material over to the now empty chair. You sat back up and shivered at the cool air, his hands gliding over your collarbones causing you to suck in air between pursed lips. The warning signals in your head blared against another familiar feeling, but you clenched your pant legs when his hands slid down between your breasts to your stomach, circling around towards your armpits back up to your shoulders, his eyes enraptured in the way your chest fluttered and nipples hardened at the breaths he blew towards them. Biting your lip, you sunk further into the chair as he repeated his hand's journey over your front, his wrists shifting the mounds together when he circled back around.

Leaning his head down to the side of your head, his lips hovered over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “This is what I meant when I said it would be a waste to kill you when we first met.”

Large hands slid down to your breasts, thumbs flicking over the hardened peaks of your nipples while he squeezed gently, his head moving yours to the side to gain access to your neck. Soft kisses and gentle bites worried the skin as your breathing became labored, his thumb and index fingers tweaking the nipples and twisting them. His left hand slid down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your sweats and scratched gently back up to your neck, fingers fanning over the front of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful. Your body is a masterpiece, something that needs to be enjoyed long and tenderly.”

His hands slid over yours, fingers lacing together for a moment before he let go once more, dragging his nails up your arms back to your cheeks, hands cradling your chin and pulling your head to rest on the back of the chair. Leaning down, his lips hovered above yours, his eyes studying the way you clenched your thighs together tight and wiggled in the seat.

“So willing, so obedient. Ready for my guidance, ready for me to completely take over you. Your fiery spirit and defiance in the face of danger made my blood boil.”

His lips captured yours in a kiss that set your skin ablaze, smoky tendrils cascading over your skin when his tongue darted from his lips to your mouth, tangling with yours. Any thoughts you had became muddled when those soft lips caressed yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and those hands returning once more to the neglected flesh on your chest. Was this really happening? Someone who you were terrified of and wanted to avoid had you wet and completely glued to the chair.

But, you’re in a foreign place in enemy territory with someone who could snap your neck at any second.

Oh, his hands are sliding down your stomach once more. Why are you propping your feet on the bars? You need to stop this now!

Dear god his fingers are so fucking _warm_ and I need them in me soon. Isn’t there a weapon you can use to break awa-oh shitshitshitshit _shit_ he’s so skilled with his hands.

Reaper sucked on your neck while his hands worked your clothed clit, rubbing gentle circles firm enough to make you buck into his hands. You gripped the seat of the chair as moans and curses tumbled out of your mouth, hips lifting off of the seat to grant him more access to the rest of your body which made him laugh against your cheek, shushing your whines when he pulled away.

“Pet, it’s alright. Let us continue this on the bed instead of this chair.”

Did he just call me pet? Since when was I a pet? Oh wait, his hands are pulling me out of the chair.

Stumbling over to the bed, Reaper was careful to turn you around before lowering you to a seated position. Instead, you sprawled out on the bed, grabbing hold of the sheets while he pulled your pants off of your legs and to the ground below. The bed sagged with his weight while he ran his hand up your shivering thighs, the smile on his face wide while you squirmed for more of him. Everywhere he touched you left behind a wispy bite of cool air in its wake, setting your senses into overload. Feelings conflicted when his mouth returned to yours and kissed you tenderly, his hand cradling your face while the other slid behind your head and stroked your scalp. This was wrong. All of this felt so good but was wrong.

When his mouth landed on your nipple you yelped, back arching off of the bed momentarily before slamming back down while his hand slid under your panties and back to your soaked lips, hands caressing slicked skin before parting them, calloused fingers caressing the throbbing nub in a circular motion that made you keen. The way your breath fluttered against his face in rushed breaks let him know that you were close. Tearing away from your breasts he watched your lip raise in a snarl, mouth open as your legs slide apart, toes flipping together before you gasped and cried out, your hands gripping the sheets while your hips bucked against his fingers, legs slamming closed as you came.

“Beautiful. My pet is so beautiful, look at how you show your appreciation.”

When he pulled away from you, your body quaked and curled in on itself in the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sounds of his belt unbuckling made you perk your head up and scoot closer to the wall. He watched as you wrapped your arms around your legs and pulled them closer to your body, chin resting on your knees while he removed his shirt and kicked off his pants. When he put his knee on the bed, you jumped and leaned harder against the wall.

“What’s wrong, I thought you were alright with this?”

Were you alright with this? One moment you were eating dinner, the next you were being driven towards a mindblowing orgasm in the hand of your captor. Swallowing hard, you rubbed your shins as he crawled closer, his hands stroking your feet.

“..I think the blindfold is bothering me.”

Reaper sighed and shook his head while he sat on his legs, one hand lazily tugging at his cock while the other tried to reach for your hand. “It has to stay on.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so, pet.”

You couldn’t quite place where this surge of bravery came from, but you fought back against your earlier agreement to _not_ piss him off and went headfirst into danger. “I already know who you are. I’ve seen an older picture of you before, heard all of the stories. If you can see me naked multiple times, then I can at least see your face.”

His hand stilled. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel the waves of smoke lash out around him, waves of it flickered over your feet. Grabbing your hand, he yanked you from your seated position into his lap, tugging your hands from his wrist to your sides and held your hips firm until you stilled. When you tried to push him away, he grabbed your hands and squeezed until you squeaked and stopped moving, your shivers vibrating the two of you. When he grabbed the back of your head you whimpered until you noticed that he was untying the knot behind your head.

“I won’t accept disobedience from here on out. Once you see my face, you can never leave my side. You’ll go with me everywhere I do, stay where I put you and be happy with what I give you. If you even think about going back to those bastards in Overwatch, I’ll blow a hole in your head. Do you understand?”

The gravity of the situation weighed on you hard. Everything that you knew, the life you had and the friends you knew. Your family and friends back in the states, your coworkers and everyone who counted on your skills. You’d be turning your back on the one family you knew and grew to love to become a slave to death itself. Tears poured down your cheek, was it really worth giving up your old life just to see him?

“..I understand.”

He kissed you gently, licking the tears that fell freely down your cheeks to your chin before sliding the blindfold off of your face. Shutting your eyes, your hands brushed away some of the tears that continued to fall off of your cheek with one hand while he kissed the one he squeezed. Taking a calming breath you slowly opened your eyes that were blurred with tears and blinked a few times before opening them. Eyes black as the endless void from your dreams with red irises that burned bright like rubies stared back at you. A face riddled with scars, facial hair that was well kept with salt and pepper patches here and there, the flock of white hair on his bang that bled into rich brown and white curls on top of his head, the rest tapered at the sides. You took in the person that sat in front of you, from the scar that cut through strong eyebrows down to his cheek to the fresher one across his nose.

The face from your last dream didn’t match up at all to the one you were seeing. Raising your hand to his face, he hesitated before you caressed his cheek down to his facial hair, a small smile lifting on the corners of your lips while you stroked the surprisingly soft skin in between raised scars. Red eyes studied you intently until yours fluttered shut, lips landing on his in a tender kiss that made him suck in air through his nose. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against his body as you sucked on his lip, arms wrapping around his shoulders and hips scooting closer to the firm flesh in between the two of you. You scratched the back of his head and smiled when he groaned, his hips pushing up against your warmth.

Becoming lost to the fantasy of finally having the subject of so many restless nights securely in his arms drove him over the edge. Leaning forward, he laid you against the bed and soon followed, sliding himself in between your legs while he kissed your neck down to your chest. Your arms dropped to your sides, fingers curling into fists every once in a while when he bit down on your ribs or your stomach. Reaper wanted to pull the sounds out of you that you so prettily made before, he had to have it. Oh how angelic that sweet voice of yours was to his ears. You held onto the bed once more when he pulled your panties off of you to the ground below. When his tongue caressed your clit you gasped, driving him to lap at the sweetness more.

You didn’t want this to feel good. You shouldn’t be so freely giving into this even if you agreed to a lifetime at his side. But the way he groaned and kissed your thigh before sliding a finger inside of you and curling to the most sensitive spot within you made your toes curl and eyes shut tight, tears pricking at the corners as your mind once more blurred on the border of sanity and madness. He sucked on the nub while his finger worked you up once more, his free hand gripping your thigh every time he pulled a cry from your lips. When he felt you were ready he slid another finger in, whispering praises when you flinched at the sudden intrusion. He needed more of you. The shuddering breath and choked sob that tumbled out of you as you wept encouraged him further in his ministrations, picking up his speed when your hips raised into his mouth and fingers shot for his hair, gripping the curls weakly as you tumbled closer to coming undone once more.

You draped your arm over your eyes, ignoring the tickling sensation of your tears dripping down your face to your ears, instead opting to turn your head into the crook of your arm when he nipped at your nub a bit too rough, the way you jumped in his hold made him think you loved it, so when he did it again you cried out in shock. Opening his eyes, he chanced a glance at you and smiled to himself. How cute, she was so embarrassed about all of this. His pet couldn’t handle the attention! No, that won’t do. As much as he didn’t want to leave the warmth of your legs, he pulled away and tucked his fingers in his mouth, sucking the slick honey taste of you off of his fingers while his other hand caressed your side.

Adjusting you on the bed, he shifted your hips to a more central part of the bed, sliding your legs to rest against his own before he leaned over you. He pulled your arm away from your face and laced his fingers with yours once more, the other directed the tip of his cock to your soaked entrance and stilled. Your vision was blurred, but each time you tried to look away he gently turned your head back to face him, his smile crooked as his thumb stroked your bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to be gentle with my pet.”

He said he would, but the sudden intrusion to hilting within you in seconds made you cry out, your free hand clawing at his chest while his eyes rolled to the back of his head in bliss. He knew you would love him within you, you just had to feel it first. Biding his time with you, making you feel safe in his hold, letting you rest and healing you, providing delicious meals and the safety of his watch, all of it was worth feeling your warmth and tightness around him. Damn, you were so _fucking tight_ , and so _fucking warm_. When your shuddering breath calmed down, he kissed your cheeks, wiping your tears with his thumb as he began to move within you, his other hand gripping yours just a bit tighter to reassure you to relax. Your hand on his chest was heaven to him, the nails raking down his skin, the gasps when he hilted fully after nearly pulling completely out, ah it was better than he could have ever imagined!

When you shut your eyes again, he tutted and booped your nose. “Aht aht, open those beautiful eyes for me.”

Goddamnit he was a fucking monster.

A particularly rough thrust shot your eyes open and he cooed, kissing your cheeks once more before he picked up his pace, refusing to even let you adjust to the sensations. The pain in between your legs and the blinding panic in your head made you wish you were back in your own head, dreaming of the calm ocean you were in, the waves and the sounds of people playing at the shore. His rough thumb on your clit jumped you out of that back to the present, slow circles picking up more. The pain you felt slowly began to lift into a mixture of pleasure and excitement that had you on edge. Try as you might, when he sat up and angled his hips up towards your sensitive spot and pressed down on the soft spot above your pubic bone, the jolt of pleasure combined with his thumb pushed it away to the back of your head.

Walls fluttered and flexed against his shaft making Reaper groan, the hair on his head sticking to his forehead while ruby eyes studied you below him. The way you worried your lip once more and gripped the sheets when he sped up let him know to continue, pulling away his thumb momentarily to suck on it before returning it back to your nub, picking up the pace. When your mouth flew open in a ‘o’ and your breathing doubled in its efforts he laughed, the hand that held yours moving down to your hips before the other joined it. You weren’t going to last long, and he wanted to fall over with you, wanted to feel you milk his cock for everything he had.

Pulling you into his arms, he held the back of your neck with one hand while the other gripped your hips. You planted your feet on the bed and held onto his shoulders, his hand on your hip encouraging you to take over for a moment. Not being one to be told twice, you chased your high, finding it hard to pull your eyes away from his as you bounced in his lap, fingers digging into the dips of his shoulders. When his hips snapped up to you, you cried out, the corner of your mouth tugging into a smile when he repeated his actions. He pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, lips mashing together, tongues flicking against one another before he pulled away and leaned close to your ear, you wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he took over, his hands behind your knees as he drilled you.

“Yes, that’s it. Keep making those sounds for me, my sweet pet.”

He snapped up into you and you cried out, your lips leaving messy kisses on his neck before you sucked on the skin, tongue nuzzling as you sucked. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he picked up his pace to a speed you didn’t think was possible, the burning in your stomach catching you off guard as you cried and shook in his arms, the surprise climax catching you completely off guard. You clawed at his back and chanted his name as you rode it out, him soon coming to a stop within you. The light in the room soon became blurry from the smoke that wafted off of him, the feeling of him filling you with his seed only heightened the tail end of your orgasm. Soon your back hit the bed, his body tumbling on top of yours, constricting your breathing briefly before he rolled out of you and to your side.

As you caught your breath he pulled you into his arms, soft kisses landing on the top of your head while you curled into his body, your hand landing just above his heart. Though the beat was slower than normal, the fact that you could feel it hammering through his chest surprised you. The two of you laid there until you slipped into a light sleep, stirring for a moment when he pulled you off of the bed and walked you to the bathroom to rinse off, his hands gently cleaning your sore body and kisses on your cheek while he scrubbed every inch of your body. When you felt you had enough energy, you turned and washed him as well, scrubbing his shoulders down his back, placing soft kisses on his chest while he hummed and closed his eyes.

He made you stand at the door of the bathroom while he changed the sheets, fluffing the new ones while you dried off and held it open as you crawled in, him slinking in soon after. He pulled your body close to his and laced his hand with yours, words of things he would give you, how he would bring you anything you desired, how happy you made him lulling you back into a turbulent sleep.

-

Months passed.

Five to be exact.

You walked around the new apartment Reaper housed you in, picking up clothes and throwing them in the hamper while music plays low from the speakers in the living room. Dinner sizzled on low heat on the stove when he finally came home, the many locks on the door signaling you to his arrival. He was gone for two weeks in South America, leaving you in the protection of this apartment that had entirely too many cameras. He always checked in with you, the bracelet on your wrist reassuring him that you wouldn’t run away.

After the first time he moved you from that old safe house to the next, you nearly jumped out of the car, but he was quicker, slamming you back into the seat and swerving the car so that it shut. He locked the door and held his hand against your throat until you nearly passed out for at least an hour. From then you knew not to escape, not to test him again. You apologized to him many times, begged him for his forgiveness when he threw you in a room and locked you in for two days with barely so much as a suitable meal outside of a granola bar and sink water from the bathroom. When he finally let you out, you crawled to his legs and held it, cheeks puffed and stained from tears that you shed the entire time.

Now you knew better. You knew that he just wanted to keep you safe and in exchange he would give you the world. That he did. When he threw his bag down and locked the door, you waited for the last bolt to signal before you approached with your arms out and ready for the hug you’ve been craving for two weeks. He slid his hoodie off of his head and kissed you slowly, picking you up off of the floor and to the bedroom the two of you shared. When he dumped you on the bed, you crawled back to the middle and lay on your back, legs splayed to the side and ready for his touch, the touch you needed.

The life you left behind couldn’t amount to the happiness you felt at his side, despite that little voice in the back of your head that you’ve ignored long enough. This was a good thing. Being his pet was a good thing.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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